Pat Sandeman

PATRICKWatt Sandeman was born in 1913 a member of the Sandeman Scotch Whisky family. He grew up in Edinburgh going to George Watson's College.

In 1939, he was commissioned in the 57 Medium Regiment of the Royal Artillery regiment and served throughout the war, much of it in the front line.

One of the hallmarks of his character was courage in adversity.

At the Dunkirk evacuation he was in charge of a small boat taking soldiers to a ship which was anchored offshore. At last the job of dodging bombs between beach and ship was almost over and one last ferry trip had to be made.

He ordered one man to accompany him back to the beach. When the man refused Pat drew his revolver from its holster, cocked it and levelled it at the squaddie. "You have a simple choice, " he said. "Come back with me or I will shoot you." The man went back. Pat took part in the Normandy landings on Juno Beach.

A fortunate outcome of the war for Pat was when, on exercise in Devon, he met Mary Trump, whom he married on April 24, 1941, in Devon.

Pat was a noted ornithologist. As a young man he made a survey of golden eagles in Scotland. This required a great deal of travel in the Highland glens which deepened his love of the Scottish countryside. He co-authored a journal paper on his work on the eagles. He introduced sea eagles from Norway to the west coast of Scotland more than 20 years before this was done by Scottish Natural Heritage in 1984.

Unfortunately, the eagles that Pat introduced did not breed successfully. If you wanted to see an eagle, an osprey or other such bird, Pat could invariably find one to watch. At one time he knew the location of all breeding pairs of golden eagles in Scotland.

He had a deep interest in Highland culture, particularly in the music of the Highland bagpipe. In the 1930s, he asked the great pipe major Willie Ross, who was the head of the army school of piping at Edinburgh Castle, to give him lessons. Willie at first declined on the basis that he already had too many pupils, but when he was informed that Pat was the representative for Sandeman whisky, he took him on.

From then on, Pat played the pipes regularly. He was not a competitive piper but was a well-kent figure at national piping events in Scotland.

Pat was devoted to his family: son David a civil engineer, daughter Mary, the well-known singer, and grandsons Iain and Duncan.

In 1975, Pat and his wife Mary needed all their courage to cope with the tragic death of David in a f lying accident. Taking off from a field by the shores of Loch Tay, near the family cottage, the small plane with David and two others aboard crash-landed in the loch and Pat had the experience of watching helplessly as his son drowned 50 yards away, overcome by hypothermia in the cold March water.

This is the sort of experience that can lead people to slip into a life of melancholy, asking themselves why the fates had been so hard on them. But the courage of Pat and Mary showed when, rather than mourn David's death, they celebrated his life.

Pat was well-known to readers of the Scots Magazine as "my friend Pat" in Tom Weir's My Month articles. Tom and Pat would vie with each other as to who could identify the most interesting places to visit for their regular stravaig in the Scottish countryside. Pat was certainly an expert for such activity.

For example, he once took me to a cave near Balquhidder which was not a natural feature but had been hewn out of the native rock, apparently to provide shelter for a few people. Pat did not know of the history of the cave but there were rumours that Rob Roy had used it as a hideout.

When Pat retired in 1973 he and Mary moved from Edinburgh to Bridge of Allan and then to Killin. Pat relied a great deal on support from Mary and when she died in 1999 I would not have been surprised if he had also gone into a rapid decline. But here again his courage sustained him to continue to live in the family home, now with the regular support of daughter Mary.

Despite increasing frailty, he kept mind and body active. Unless the weather was really bad he would be out walking or on his bike in his favourite haunts. In mid-April 2006, he fell heavily in his home, breaking ribs, and had to be taken to hospital in Stirling.

Now his courage could not sustain him; his spirit could no longer soarwith the eagles, and he died aged 93.

He was a man of strong opinions and affectionate disposition. His many good friends will reflect sadly that the sound of his footfalls will no longer be heard in the Scottish glens.